


my kind's your kind

by callmearcturus



Series: dripping with alchemy [2]
Category: Borderlands
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Bonding, M/M, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 11:44:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5247086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmearcturus/pseuds/callmearcturus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/5054632">dripping with alchemy</a>. as requested.</p><p>After a year and a half of getting used to the omega thing, Rhys assumed he had a handle on the whole thing. </p><p>That was his first mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> all right, all right, i hear y'all. here's the sequel. it'll be just two parts.
> 
> cw: the usual alpha/beta/omega dynamics, some consensual humiliation play, pregnancy, a bit of gendered language, and some good old fashioned hyperion murder.

The best part of sleeping with the king of Hyperion was that Rhys very quickly lost his status as Helios’ Most Eligible Omega.

Jack was, pretty predictably, good at the whole casually possessive thing, keeping a hand on Rhys as they walked through Helios, touching Rhys through the day, and sometimes even taking Rhys aside to press his mouth against Rhys’ neck, nudging open the collar of his shirt to scent against his skin. Rhys got used to smelling like Jack’s warm gunpowder scent, letting it cover his own subtler omega scent. It was worth it for how people stopped _leering_ at Rhys.

It was good for everyone. Rhys could focus more on his work and his supposed suitors weren’t at risk of being forcibly ventilated by Jack.

Which was sweet, but messy. Rhys didn’t like messy.

Life went on. Rhys took his pills, checked in with his doctor every few months, and settled into his endotype pretty well. It was nice. He liked the perks that came with, from the way he could _feel_ things more (textures, scents, even _emotions_ sometimes) to the way Jack wanted him.

It was, overall, a pretty nice deal. And life went on.

It was the middle of the week, and big things were going on around Helios. Hyperion had located an old Atlas armory down on Pandora and was working on clearing out the bandits holed up inside to get access to the treasures inside. Jack spent the day blowing off his other meetings to watch the feeds from the planet’s surface, watching soldiers and loader bots try to tear through the bandit’s barricade.

He vacillated between watching silently with his chin propped up in his hand and acting like he was at a sporting event, shouting at the monitor and rocking irritably in his chair. More than once, Rhys left him to it to go get coffee from the shop in the Hub, just to avoid the excited yelling.

As if that wasn’t enough for the day, _something_ was going on in the engine room, some kind of upgrades that had the artificial gravity turning itself on and off.

Rhys had lost two ECHO comms and a croissant to the bouts of anti-gravity already.

“So, we’re not going to make it to the meeting in R&D, are we?” Rhys asked, walking up the steps to Jack’s desk. He was staring at his computer again, the muffled sound of gunfire and explosions emanating from whatever he was watching.

“It’s an _Atlas armory_ , babe,” Jack said, not even looking up from the feed. “We’re going to be loaded with great equipment if we can _get into it_. I’ll even get you a gun. You need to learn to shoot.”

Rhys sat on the corner of Jack’s desk, shaking his head. “I think I’d rather have a nice shield.”

“Spoiled sport,” Jack mumbled.

Rhys waited a cursory moment to see if Jack would actually look at him before sighing and opening his palm computer to cancel more meetings. He’d have to reschedule everything for later in the week. He didn’t look forward to it and was already thinking of low-key ways to punish Jack. Something subtle…

While he was thinking about it, he slid off the desk to head back to his own only for his feet to drift right off the floor, a sudden weightlessness overtaking him as Helios itself seemed to let out a distressed hum.

“Oh, not _again_!” Rhys snapped, flinging a hand out to catch hold of the corner of Jack’s desk. “Can’t they give us a heads up? Or just… _not_ do this?”

Jack tucked his feet against his desk, feet pressing against the underside and leveraging his chair in place, holding it against the floor. “Not when they’re upgrading the inertial dampeners. Plus, not gonna lie, this is more fun.” He held out a hand. “C’mere, babe.”

Frowning angrily, Rhys took Jack’s hand, letting himself be pulled in. Jack grinned as he tucked his arms around Rhys, settling him across his lap. “Gotcha. Don’t worry, I’m not going to have you floating away from me.”

Rhys sighed, wrapping his arm around Jack’s shoulders as he continued to work off his palm computer. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. Someone should.” He didn’t bother hiding his annoyance. It was just the worst kind of hassle; Jack blowing off meetings dumped more work onto Rhys, and the gravity thing-- Rhys couldn’t _blame_ that on anyone, couldn’t get any satisfaction from retribution when there were no real culprits.

“Aw, kitten,” Jack said, after a moment. “Put that away, just for a sec.” He put a hand over Rhys’ palm, obscuring the projection until Rhys turned it off. Drawing Rhys in closer, Jack nosed against his neck, lipping at the dark ink of his tattoo.

Shutting his eyes, Rhys tipped his head, letting Jack have more room to play with. Which was a terrible decision, as encouraging Jack was always a risky prospect. But this close, Rhys couldn’t help taking deep breaths, letting Jack’s scent calm him. “You are so needy,” he mumbled quietly.

Jack bit him softly, sparks shivering through him from the mark, before he started laughing. “Insubordinate little shit, I’ll speedball you at the door.”

Rhys turned his head, kissing Jack’s chin. “Then do it,” he replied, calling the bluff.

“In a minute,” Jack said, finally grabbing Rhys’ chin and pulling him in for a proper kiss.

 

* * *

 

As more of Rhys’ clothes and things migrated over to the penthouse, he’d worried that he was spending too much time with Jack. Most of the work day was spent collaborating or shepherding Jack to where he needed to go, trying to keep the president’s life halfway organized. So, it was possible that accidentally moving in with him part time would crack their relationship, or something. 

What Rhys found, instead, was that he worked for Handsome Jack, and when they were done for the day and alone in the penthouse, the mask came off (literally) and Rhys was stuck with Jack, who he was equally fond of.

Dinner was quiet, but Rhys could tell _something_ was coming from the way Jack kept shooting him heated looks. It only made sense; Jack had cooked, and that always meant he wanted something. It worked in his favor, since he was actually a pretty decent cook. Rhys wasn’t, never had been, and was weak to homemade meals.

Jack kept his hands to himself until Rhys crawled into bed. He had about ten seconds of nuzzling against his pillow, settling in to sleep, before Jack gripped his hip, turning him onto his back so he could nose against Rhys’ neck.

Rhys hummed, keeping his eyes mostly shut, watching the vague shape of Jack as he nipped and kissed his way down Rhys’ chest to mouth vaguely at his belly. His hands swept warm and wide over Rhys’ sides, cupping his ribs.

“We have early meetings,” Rhys mumbled, lifting his hand to pet Jack’s hair back from his face, thumb tracing the peak of Jack’s scar. “Have to be in the office at 7am for a conference call with one of the Edens.”

Jack growled indistinctly, lifting his mouth from Rhys’ navel enough to say, “More interested in watching my PA squirm on my knot. Pencil _that_ in for me, Mr. Sommerset.”

Oh, so _that_ was how it was. The laugh knocked out of Rhys’ chest was soft and breathy. “But _sir_ ,” he said, hushed, “what will the board think?”

It was a joke, but one that made Jack grin like the devil himself. He squeezed Rhys’ legs, kissing the inside of his thigh with a hint of teeth. “Mmhm. Pretty omega like you, they’re all thinking the same thing, sweetheart,” Jack said.

To his surprise, Rhys was flipped over, Jack urging him onto his stomach. Big hands grasped at his ass, grip tight enough that Rhys gasped at the sting of pain. Jack went on, voice tighter, “Your long legs… get you in a skirt just to hike it up high.” Breath fanned over Rhys’ skin, making him shiver and bury his face into the pillow. His quiet, wanting noises were muffled as Jack spread him open, breath even hotter against where he was getting slick. “Sweet thing, perfect for a quick fuck right over the desk.”

His tongue pressed in against Rhys’ hole, so hot and demanding. Rhys clutched the sheets, shaking as he was licked into. The sound was _so loud_ , wet and obscene, making him flush in embarrassment. It felt so _good_ though. “Sir, please,” he managed through a tight throat as Jack pressed his fingers in alongside his tongue. Rhys’ voice trailed off into a moan.

For a moment, Jack just stretched Rhys open thoroughly, efficient about getting him wet and worked up. Jack knew his body so well by now, could have Rhys dissolving into a purring pile of shivers and moans in minutes.

When he pulled away, Rhys waited eagerly for the press of Jack’s cock. It didn’t come, though, and Rhys lifted his head, turning to look back at Jack with a hurt look.

Jack was kneeling over him, grinning. His voice was stern, solidly in character as he smacked Rhys’ ass once. “Mr. Sommerset, retrieve the blue one from the drawer.” Another slap made Rhys jerk, swallowing a groan. “There’s a peach.”

Rhys wished the weird patronizing twist of Jack’s words didn’t work for him so much. It was irritating how quickly he jumped to the task, crawling on his knees and one hand to reach into the bedside table. There were plenty of tools in there, but what Jack meant was one of the vibrators, one of the smaller ones. He pulled it out, fingers closed around it as he crawled back to Jack. He kept his head down, looking up at Jack through his lashes. “Please, sir, it’s so hard to… focus with it in.”

Jack moved, sitting up against the head of the bed, tossing the pillows aside carelessly. Rhys made a note to make Jack go get them from the floor later. For now, the play was more important. “I’m a busy man, sweetheart. Other things need my attention.” He crooked his fingers, waiting for Rhys to come closer before taking the vibe from him. He took hold of Rhys’ hip, almost yanking him in. “You should be grateful for this, something to keep you company. I know how you omegas get.”

 _Oh_. Rhys shut his eyes, enthralled and devastated by Jack’s casually cruel words. He squeezed his legs together, gasping at the feeling of slick sliding down his inner thigh. It was terrible and perfect.

His hand on Jack’s shoulder, Rhys balanced on his knees as Jack pressed the vibe up and into him, coaxing it deeper and deeper with short thrusts, urging Rhys to relax around it. It wasn’t hard; the blue one was narrow, almost no stretch to it before it tapered in, settling just right. It was almost disappointing after Rhys’ anticipation of Jack’s dick, but the moment Jack turned it on, Rhys was moaning, hips circling uselessly against the air.

“Quiet, buttercup, or I’ll make you quiet.”

It wasn’t hard to follow where this was going, and Rhys suppressed his urge to grin. Instead, he let out a low whine, noisier than he really had to be. “Oh, I can’t, sir, I’m sorry.” He swayed in, mouthing at Jack’s ear before whispering, “Help, I don’t want everyone to hear…”

Jack sighed, like it was some great _hardship_ to shove Rhys down towards his cock. “I’m not thrilled with your performance right now, Mr. Sommerset,” Jack said as Rhys settled on his stomach, between Jack’s legs. One hand clutched the back of Rhys’ head, fingers tense in his hair, holding his head up so Jack could brushing the soft head of his cock over Rhys’ lips. “Get to work, like a good little omega.”

Gladly. Rhys let Jack guide him for a moment, until the blood-hot warmth of his cock was in his mouth. Then, Rhys shut his eyes peacefully and dragged his lips up and down, humming as he sucked hard. Around his shoulders, he could feel the tension in Jack’s legs, but otherwise Jack just left him to it, almost _ignoring_ Rhys.

Except for the times he leaned forward to get at the vibe, dialing it up further, making Rhys twitch and moan.

Rhys lost focus, lapping messily at Jack, shifting to curl his fingers around the bottom of his shaft. His fingers circled the spongey tissue that’d expand into his knot. He could feel Jack’s pulse through the sensitive skin and squeezed at it, tight then loose then tight again until Jack cursed quietly above him. He felt it as it started to expand, just the beginning of a knot, and Rhys pulled back, gasping. “Please, let me have it, _please_ , I’ll…” he took a shuddering breath, mind flinging around for the right thing to say. “I’ll be the-- the best little secretary, sir.” He looked up Jack’s chest, resisting the urge to flutter his eyelashes, settling for just licking his lips slowly.

For a brief moment, Rhys imagined doing this in the office. Despite it all, they rarely fucked in the office. During the day they were just too _busy_ , and when the schedule was clear, Rhys just wanted to leave. Now, though, he wondered if he’d want to try, if having Jack do this from him while sitting in that ridiculous throne of his would make it better, or if it’d be too real then. He had no idea, but liked the sticky hot feeling that clung to him when Jack was a little mean to him like this.

The whole idea of being a _good little omega_ was so laughable, but it was fun to pretend, to let Jack push him around just a bit.

It was easy to let Jack shove him onto his back, and the gasp he let out as the vibe was yanked out of him, still buzzing away, was genuine. Jack’s cock replaced it in one fast, hard thrust; he was wider than the toy, and Rhys’ eyes pinched shut at the stretch, his legs bending and curling around Jack’s hips. “ _Uh_ , J--Jack, _fuck_.”

Jack leaned forward, his elbows bracketing Rhys’ head. He was close, and watched avidly as Rhys shook. “Like that?” His hips rolled, and Rhys could feel his knot starting to swell, slipping in and out of his hole, catching just enough to make him _shake_. “You like powerful alphas? Does it get you all slick thinking about them, buttercup? You come into the office, dressed up all pretty just hoping for a fat knot, don’t you?”

Rhys felt like he’d been punched, jerking and coming so suddenly, he couldn’t hold in his shout. He clenched down, digging his nails into Jack’s shoulder as the knot finally caught inside him. Jack let out a sigh, quiet and almost relieved as his hips lazily pumped into Rhys, coming hot and wet inside.

Spent in every sense of the word, Rhys lay there silently, breathing deeply as he settled into the cotton-soft warmth of afterglow, safe and familiar. He smiled as he felt Jack kiss his neck, licking languidly at the sensitive spot on Rhys’ neck.

He didn’t know the biology of it yet, the whole bond mark thing. All he knew was Jack toyed with that spot a lot, and it always felt _lovely_ , making Rhys’ toes curl at the extra flush of _warmgood_ it injected into his veins.

In his hindbrain, it made Rhys want to climb onto Jack’s lap and never leave.

He let out a noise that was definitely not a giggle, turning his head to rub his cheek against Jack’s face. “Mm, you’ve never mentioned the skirt thing before.”

Jack snorted. “Have you seen your legs? C’mon, babe.”

Squirming a little, Rhys hummed, feeling the pull of Jack’s knot, still wide and locked inside him. He moved, sliding his hips against the bed until Jack groaned and grabbed him, holding him still. “Geez, Rhys.”

“Still making up for lost time,” Rhys murmured in his defense, but settled. “God, keeping you awake through that conference call is going to be impossible.”

“Yeah, probably.” Jack wrapped his arms around Rhys, curling them even closer together. “Worry about it tomorrow, babe.”

“‘Kay,” Rhys said, yawning.

 

* * *

 

 The Atlas armory issue didn’t go away, and a week later Jack was packing a bag.

Rhys watched him, arms crossed. “I don’t see why you need to go to Pandora yourself. There’s nothing you can do down there that you can’t do here, remotely.”

“This is why I’m the President, Rhysie,” Jack said, tossing his clothes into the bag haphazardly. With a sigh, Rhys stepped in, taking them back out and folding them so they’d actually _fit_. “The point of cultivating an environment of fear and awe is that you can use it to get shit done. If I go down there and do a little personal oversight, I bet you we’ll have those Atlas goodies in a day, maybe two.”

“What, so the troops need you to be there for that?”

“Extenuating circumstances, babe.” Jack looked up, eyes wide and keen. “I _really_ want that facility.”

“I really want you not to get shot,” Rhys countered.

“Not gonna get shot, relax.” Jack picked up his bag, shouldering it and leaning in to kiss Rhys in one smooth motion. “Hold down the fort, you’re in charge while I’m gone.”

Smiling faintly, Rhys pointed out, “I think the board would disagree there.”

“Anyone gives you hassle, take down their names. I’ll _handle_ them when I get back.” He kissed Rhys again, nipping his lower lip before finally stepping away. “Don’t miss me too much, pumpkin.”

“I’m going to sit in your chair and have the entire bed to myself,” Rhys countered tartly. “Won’t miss you at all.”

Jack ignored him. “It’ll be fine. When I get back, I’ll take you to fancy place with the bisque you like.”

“Maybe I’ll go myself while you’re gone.” That one earned him a slap on the ass, and Rhys sighed. Reaching out, he caught Jack’s collar and tugged him in, taking a deep breath, committing Jack’s scent to memory. “Come back soon.”

“I’ll bring you something nice,” Jack said, and left for the hangar bay.

Rhys watched him go, unsettled, and unsure why. This wasn’t the first time Jack had gone on a trip alone, and it’d never bothered Rhys before. But…

He shook his head, sighing. It’d be fine.

 

* * *

 

Jack wasn’t back the next day. He’d been gone for over a week when Rhys sat in the office, dividing his time between staring out the window at Elpis and fielding increasingly demanding requests for Jack’s attention. Apparently, everyone assumed that when Rhys said Jack wasn’t available, that meant they simply needed to ask louder and add in a few threats, and Rhys would fold and stop hiding the President in the coat closet. 

It wasn’t anything that Rhys couldn’t handle, that he _hadn’t_ handled before on occasion. This time, though, it was more of a bother than usual.  His smooth professional mask kept slipping, until late on Friday Rhys accidentally told a _particularly_ rude project lead from communications tech to shove his miniature ECHO comm prototype up his ass because Jack was about as likely to see it there than he was in the office right now.

The stunned silence had been gratifying, as had been hanging up just as the jerk spat out, “You rude little omega bitc--”

The happy vindictive feeling faded quickly, though, leaving Rhys just as listless as before. The chance to sit in Jack’s chair and boss people around was always nice, but was quickly losing its luster.

Rhys tucked his feet up on the chair, resting his cheek against one knee, sighing. He must’ve been out of sorts. As he tended to do anything he felt _off_ , Rhys wondered if he should check in with the doctor. He hadn’t been on omega supplements for months now, but he was still taking low dose boosters since his body had trouble maintaining the proper omega chemistry. Something about his medicine could be playing hell with his emotions. Wouldn’t be the first time.

As he idly pulled up his palm computer, looking for his doctor’s contact information, the office doors opened. A man in a lab coat stalked in before Rhys could say anything, glaring across the office. “Well, you’ve made yourself cozy in Handsome Jack’s seat, haven’t you?”

Rhys recognized the voice immediately, the project lead he’d hung up on before. Houlton or something. Knowing that moving would make him look guilty or weak, Rhys stayed exactly where he was, shifting just so his chin was propped up on his knee. “It’s a great chair.”

Houlton walked up the steps to the desk, standing in front of it with his hands on his hips. “Where’s the President? My department is tired of dealing with you and your runaround.”

Rhys lifted his eyebrows. “I’m not sure how _he’s not available right now_ constitutes a _runaround_. And his location is classified well above your paygrade, Houlton.”

“My entire team is stalled on this project pending this approval check, and we’re supposed to be in production _next month_. I don’t have time for this.”

Smiling meanly, Rhys said, “I can adjust that timescale if you want, give you more time. Or if you keep this up, I can cut your time in half.” He shrugged. “Depends on how I’m feeling, really.”

Houlton sneered. “You don’t have that authority.”

Rhys sat up, looking around. “I, uh, well it _looks_ like I’m sitting at Handsome Jack’s desk and have access to his computer and, when you think about it, his authority to _screw_ with you as he pleases. As I please.” Slumping back, Rhys half turned the chair away, looking out the window again. “Get out, Houlton. The President will be back when he’s back. I’m not in the mood to play.”

“What a coincidence, I’m not in the mood to play with Handsome Jack’s rude little omega bitch.”

Rhys sighed, turning the chair back around and finally unfolding from his comfortable curl. His hands settled heavily on the arms of the chair. “You were just _really_ determined to make those your last words, huh?”

Houlton blinked, confused.

Rhys calmly pressed one of the buttons under the right armrest.

The floor went out from under Houlton’s feet, and the man screamed as he fell, the sound fading quickly as he dropped out of the office and into the column of death below.

Lucky for him, Rhys didn’t turn on the blades and spikes in the tunnel below, satisfied to just let the prick fall. He’d probably survive without the human blender turned on, though the fall would break a few bones.

Though, if he did die, Rhys didn’t expect he’d mind too much.

Pressing the button again, he let the trapdoor shut, turning back to his stargazing in blissful silence.


	2. Chapter 2

Over the weekend, the unsettled feeling bloomed in Rhys’ chest. His irritation and short temper expanded and deepened, leaving him feeling almost physically unwell.

Things only got busier with Jack’s absence as Rhys juggled more requests, handling what he could and postponing the things that genuinely required Jack’s presence. Some executive calls Rhys could handle himself, given his familiarity with Jack’s budget habits and quality control ideals. Others, though, wouldn’t take well to an _omega secretary_ showing up in Jack’s stead. Those had to wait.

It wasn’t all bad. There was even a board meeting, albeit a short one, that Rhys sat in on. The board knew him as Jack’s ghost and right hand man, so in theory it should have been a fairly comfortable environment for him.

Most of the board members were alphas, as could be expected. As much lip service as there was for endotype equality, alphas still tended to be leaders, and omegas had a rough time climbing the corporate ladder. More than once, Rhys had lay awake through the night, seized with a weird guilt about whether he’d cheated the system somehow, passing for a beta so many years.

But that was before. Now, Rhys took his notes on the meeting to pass onto Jack later, and tried very hard not to breathe for an hour and a half.

There was this _thing_ crawling up his spine, an almost hysterical worry that wanted to grab hold of him. The mixing scents around him were overwhelming, like his sense of smell had been amplified. It brought a headache, lingering around Rhys’ temples, but more than that brought a simmering tense anxiousness to every bone in his body.

More than anything, Rhys wanted to retreat to the penthouse and crawl into bed, bury his face against the pillows and try to latch onto Jack’s fading scent.

He didn’t, of course, because he had work to do. But it was a closer thing than he’d ever admit.

As soon as the meeting adjourned, Rhys left. Normally, he would stay after to talk to the other board members, to catch up on things and just remind them of his presence. This time, Rhys went back to the office and slumped into Jack’s chair.

His self-restraint failed as soon as he was alone again. Locking the door, Rhys pulled up the communication suite on Jack’s computer, calling Jack down on Pandora.

It took time for Jack to pick up the call. When he answered, it was clear why; Jack was in bed, his hair mussed from sleep.

Right. Pandora’s night and day cycles didn’t even _remotely_ match Helios’, and Rhys managed to call while Jack was sleeping. So much for his attention to detail.

“Wha’s goin’ on?” Jack asked, words slurring together. “Did you break Helios? What happened?”

Rhys huffed a laugh. “I did not break Helios. Give me some credit.” He’d smiled the moment he saw Jack’s face, a wave of calm washing over him at the sight. Now, it faded. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Sorry.”

“S’fine, gotta be up in…” Jack looked away for a minute. “Well, in about five hours, but it’s fine. How’re things, Rhysie? Everyone nippin’ at your heels?”

“More like full on biting with fangs. People here don’t seem to understand what _unavailable_ means.”

“Airlock a few,” Jack said swiftly. “They’ll learn quick.”

He was tempted to mention Houlton, but decided against it. “You know, you said it’d be a few days, tops. What’s-- how’re things for you?”

Jack moved, laying back in bed. The ECHOcomm seemed to be propped up on his chest as he rested, looking ready to fall back asleep any moment. “Bandits in the armory have two brains cells to rub together, have been using the Atlas gear to hold off our forces in a bottleneck by the entrance. S’friggin’ mess, but we’ve got it.”

“Sorry it’s so rough,” Rhys said. “Maybe I could draft a declaration that as the owner of Atlas, technically all of their guns and the armory belong to you. They could see sense and leave.”

The view of Jack shook as he laughed, jostling the comm. “You could be my secret weapon. Throw you at the bandits, have you wear them into submission. Save us so much time and wasted resources.”

“How bad is it?”

“Hasn’t been great, but I sent some scouts to another Atlas facility we already had on lockdown. They dug up the blueprints for this armory. There’s a back entrance for the place, but the bandits bombed out the tunnel ages ago. We’re going to keep ‘em distracted near the front while we clear it out, then sneak up and stab ‘em in the back.”

Rhys nodded, smiling wanly. “Sounds like that’ll take a while.”

Jack’s eyes had been falling closed, but opened then, focusing on the screen. “You okay, kitten?”

For a moment, Rhys wanted to say no. He wanted to tell Jack to come home, to get on a shuttle and be back in time to go to bed with Rhys. It was selfish in a way Rhys wasn’t used to, and he squashed it down hard, forcing a better smile. “I’m fine. Little tired of, oh, _everyone_ on this space station.”

“If Blake’s making you say that, I can come save you. Just blink twice, give me a sign. We shoulda set up a codeword before I left.”

“ _Blake_ , you think Blake can take me on.” Rhys snorted, rolling his eyes. “It’s fine, seriously. I just… wanted to check in.”

A slow grin spread over Jack’s face. “You miss me. I knew you would.”

That was enough of _that_. Rhys laughed quietly. “Go back to sleep, Jack. Kill the bandits. Bring me something nice.”

“Will do, you bossy thing,” Jack said. “Unless you wanna…” He waggled his eyebrows.

“No.” Rhys reached out, hand over the disconnect button. “Good _night_ , Jack.”

“Babe,” Jack said indistinctly, his eyes already shut again. Rhys watched him on the feed for few seconds, then cut the feed.

 

* * *

 

By the middle of the next week, Rhys was exhausted. The mood in Helios was only getting worse, it seemed, by the hour, and more than a few people got close to being set down the trapdoor like Houlton.

Rhys checked up with Jack again on Thursday, but could barely hear him over the gunfire. It did nothing to help the tense feeling in his gut. Actually, it made it worse, until Rhys cut the feed and hunched over the trash can, breathing shallowly against the waves of nausea and worry.

Whatever came out of that damn armory had better be _phenomenal_ , not just sentimental Atlas artifacts, or Rhys was going to be pissed.

Needing the distraction, Rhys fired off about ten messages to Vaughn, asking him over for dinner and a marathon of bad holovids. Most weeks, Rhys spent a night or two with his friends, but since Jack’s trip to Pandora, he’d not had the time or energy. With the stress peaking, though, Rhys _made_ the time, desperate to see someone who wasn’t likely to shout at him about Jack’s absence.

He ordered in a veritable buffet of food, spicy noodles and dumpling soup and curry so hot just breathing in the steam made his eyes water. It was a craving, and Rhys hoped Vaughn was in the mood for some dragon’s breath-level spice action.

Vaughn showed up with beer, because he was a good guest. One whiff of the air, and he whistled. “Smells like agony in here.”

“Yeah, but delicious agony,” Rhys replied with a grin. “Help yourself. I actually have to fire off one more message to R&D, I’ll be right out.” He grabbed a beer, twisting the cap off the bottle with his metal hand. One of the benefits of being a cyborg was being your own church key.

It didn’t take long to send out yet another mass email to half of the project leads that _no_ , the President _wasn’t_ available, and _no_ , Rhys still didn’t have an update on when he would be. By now, Rhys practically had a form letter, ready to send to anyone who tried the harass him.

Jack couldn’t get back soon enough, honestly.

Powering down his computer, Rhys wandered back towards his living room, looking forward to good food and bad vids.

Then, _something_ happened. Rhys didn’t understand it as it was happening, just knew his heart rate spiked, the wave of desperate panic that had been flirting around the edges of his mind for _days_ crashing in all at once. He let out a noise, a-- a _keen_ , and stumbled back into his office, blindly hitting his desk and slumping to the floor.

His body was screaming at him, that he was in danger, that he was vulnerable and needed to hide because someone unsafe was in _his space_. Rhys clapped a hand over his mouth, muffling another keen.

“Rhys, holy shit, Rhys, hey, hey!” Vaughn dropped onto the floor next to him, looking wild around the eyes. “Are you hurt, wh-what’s wrong, bro, talk to me?”

Rhys grabbed Vaughn’s hand in a deathgrip. Vaughn was his friend, he’d be safe.

“Oh my god, what _happened_? Should I call someone?”

That wasn’t Vaughn. Rhys shook as he dragged his eyes up, resisting the thing in his head that was yelling at him to keep his head down, to make himself small.

Yvette. She was standing in the doorway. He’d… now that he was paying attention, he could pick out her scent. It was familiar, but…

Rhys shut his eyes, making himself breathe in deeply. Familiar scents usually calmed him down, but now something in him wanted to climb the walls with his _nails_ , anything to get away. “What…. what is _going on_ , fuck,” Rhys managed, voice strangled.

“Yvette, help me pick him up,” Vaughn said, pulling Rhys’ arm over his shoulder.

“Actually…” she said slowly, keeping her distance. “I… don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“What? Why? Ugh, nevermind, he’s light as a feather, as usual.”

Rhys leaned on Vaughn, bracing a hand on the desk, and let his friend help him up onto shaky legs. The weird _thing_ was passing, his head clearing slowly. It left him feeling vaguely unwell, though, and he silently let Vaughn help him out to the living room and onto the sofa.

Yvette carefully gave him a wide berth, and Rhys suddenly felt like an asshole. “Yvette, I’m sorry, it’s-- it’s not you, it’s just the past week, people have been such _assholes_ to me, and the worst ones have been, you know…” Rhys cleared his throat, flushing. “Alphas. I think I just didn’t-- It’s not you, I know you’re…”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Yvette said dryly, a smile curling her lips. She sat, taking the armchair furthest from Rhys. “Vaughn invited me over. I’m guessing he didn’t say anything?”

Vaughn looked between them, a flash of worry on his face. “I invite you over all the time, it’s never been an issue before!”

Rhys held up a hand. “It’s cool, bro, I promise. It’s just a… bad week. I’ve been feeling like crap for a while now and I think I just got… startled or something.”

“Or something,” Yvette echoed, shooting him a look he didn’t understand. “When did this start?”

“Uh, just after Jack left. He’s off on Pandora doing something.” Rhys laughed softly. “He warned me I would miss him, but this is ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” Vaughn said, hesitant. “Do you want… we can go.”

“Dude, no, please.” Rhys grabbed Vaughn’s sleeve, pulling him down onto the sofa. “Don’t leave me alone with all the food, I’ll die.”

“It’d certainly be a way to go,” Yvette said, reaching out for a plate. “Pass me those noodles, they smell great.”

“They smell like murder,” Vaughn said, but obliged. Together, they passed around food, dishing it out onto their plates before settling in and finally turning on a vid.

Having food helped, though Rhys’ appetite waned quicker than he’d expected, the surprise nausea from his _episode_ making the prospect of finishing his plate an impossible pipedream. Too soon, he set his plate aside, shifting to curl up against the arm of the sofa.

The vid was an old favorite of Rhys’, a bright colorful espionage flick with a lot of jokes and fancy gunplay. It was a comfort vid for him, but before long he lost track of the plot, eyes glazing over.

There was still a nagging anxiousness in the back of his brain. It spiked, threatening to take over every time he took a deep breath.

What was _wrong_ with him? He knew it was Yvette’s scent, but he didn’t know _why_. He’d known her years, he trusted her, and yet her alpha scent was setting him off, and badly.

The room went quiet, and Rhys opened his eyes in surprise as the background noise of the vid stopped. It was paused, and both his friends were staring at him.

“Um.” He looked between them apologetically. “Am I, uh, distracting you guys?”

“Rhys…” Vaughn started, then seemed unsure what to say.

Yvette, though, stood up. “I’m running out for a moment. There’s a general goods kiosk on this floor, right?”

“What?” Rhys frowned. “Yeah, just take the first left by the elevator, it’s on the right-hand wall. But why?”

“Got a theory. Go ahead and finish up without me, I’ll be back.” She grabbed her back, heels clicking across Rhys’ floors as she left.

That was… weird. But to his dismay, he felt calmer as soon as she left. The guilt was intense. “Just… let’s finish the vid, please?” he said quietly.

“Sure,” Vaughn said. He unpaused it, then put his hand across the back of the sofa.

Taking the silent offer gladly, Rhys slumped against Vaughn’s side, soaking in the comfort and warmth offered.

It was after the vid was over and the plates and food were cleared away that Yvette finally returned. She let herself in, but stood in the doorway until Rhys looked up and saw here. “I’m back,” she announced.

Rhys swallowed and nodded. “Hey. If you wanted more noodles, they’re in the fridge.”

“In a bit, maybe,” she said. In her hand was a package that she ripped open, tapping the white, medical-looking box against her palm until a tube slid out. Rhys recognized it; blood tests for various ailments were easy to purchase from general stores. They were simple pieces of metal and plastic, a needle that pricked the skin, tested the blood, and reported results on the body of the tube.

“What’s that for?” Rhys asked nervously.

“Just a hunch.” She held up her hands before stepping closer to Rhys. It was terrible, how careful she was being, made him feel sick to his stomach because it _helped_. Being able to see her move closer rather than being surprised helped him squash the anxiety in his chest. “Arm,” she demanded.

Rhys held his out, let her grasp his wrist, holding him still as she nicked his palm with the needle. She flipped the needle around after, clicking it into the body of the tester.

It hesitated just a moment before flashing pale blue.

Rhys lifted his eyebrows and looked up at Yvette, who… was staring at the cheerful blue light in her hands with shock, her lips parted into a small ‘o’. “Yvette? Ha ha, what’s that mean?”

Instead of saying anything, she handed the tester to Vaughn. He looked at it, turning it over in his hands a moment before his eyes widened. “Oh. _Oh_ , oh wow, uh. Okay.”

Yvette put her hand on Rhys’ arm, drawing him back to the sofa. “Sit, Rhys.”

“Yoooou are sort of scaring me,” Rhys pointed out, but sat down. “What was your hunch, what’s going on?”

“Wow,” Vaughn said again, behind him.

“You’ve been stressed lately,” Yvette said, “and feel threatened by having an alpha in your space. Ah ah!” She held up a finger as Rhys opened his mouth to protest. “I’m not mad, and it’s true. You nearly melted down when an alpha showed up unannounced, and you’ve been putting off some of the most unhappy pheromones while I’m here.” She lowered her hand. “I took a guess, and was right. All that makes sense when you’re unbonded and pregnant.”

Rhys couldn’t help it; he laughed, sharp and startled. “Uh, _what_? I’m-- no, come on.” He turned to look incredulously at Vaughn.

Vaughn just held out the tester.

Rhys stared at it, but didn’t take it, instead slowly turning back to Yvette. “What?”

She smiled at him. “Rhys versus the omega lifestyle, round who-the-hell-knows.” She reached out, a hand on his knee. “It explains why you’re a bit of a mess. Bonded and knocked up, you’d probably be riding a tidal wave of happy endorphins all the way to the bank. My sister was insufferably happy when she got pregnant. But you, you’re _unbonded_ , and that’s a whole other story.”

“He’s freaking out about potential threats,” Vaughn said with dawning comprehension. “Which to him is, what, _all_ alphas?”

“Well, almost all,” Yvette said.  She let out a low whistle. “And he’s been fielding a lot of anger from a lot of alphas. It’s amazing it took so long for this to happen.”

“Please _stop_ talking around me,” Rhys said, voice high and shaking. “I’m-- I’m _pregnant_ , how can I, I can’t be, I’m the worst omega, I have to take-- take boosters to even…” He exhaled hard, wrapping his arms around himself.

“Have you been on the pill or something?” Vaughn asked, settling down next to him and rubbing up and down his back.

“Not… not really, the doctor said until my levels stabilized--” Rhys shook his head. “She said it couldn’t happen.”

“Well. Looks like things changed,” Yvette said quietly.

“Oh my god.” Rhys dug his hands into his hair. “I need my ECHOcomm, I need to call Jack.” He stood, but stilled, feeling the color drain from his face. “Wait, what, that’s the-- the _worst_ idea.” He sat down again, relieved when Vaughn immediately returned to rubbing his back.

“What, why?” Vaughn asked.

“Because…” Rhys looked down at his lap before saying in a voice just above a whisper, “Because I messed up.”

Vaughn scoffed, both his hands settling on Rhys’ back, rubbing up and down. “You did not mess up, man. Don’t say that.”

“These things happen,” Yvette agreed, nodding along. “Though, you have a point. If you need to get it taken care of…” She trailed off.

Rhys nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I should…” He choked out a laugh, hard and unhappy. God, what a _disaster,_ on top of all the rest of the shit he was dealing with. “I mean, we’re not even _bonded_ , so I should, right?”

Yvette hummed, nodding slowly. “Perhaps, mmhm. Still, it’s so strange he’s _not_ bonded you. Especially given was a possessive asshole he is. And what a possessive asshole _you_ can be.”

Rhys shook his head, sighing softly. “Maybe. But he’s never asked. Just does that _thing_ , you know.”

Frowning, perplexed, Yvette shook her head. “What thing?”

“He does that thing, he’s, you know.” Rhys waved to his own neck vaguely. “Plays with that spot sometimes, that’s all.”

For some reason, that made Yvette freeze all over, her mouth dropping open again. “He does _what_? No, no, details, Rhys.”

“I…” Rhys looked back at Vaughn, who shrugged. “What?”

“Does he bite you?” she asked intently.

“No, never. Or, not… he does little nips and things, does things with-- with his tongue.” He could feel himself flushing at the thought. “It feels nice.”

“How long has he been doing that?”

Rhys didn’t know when this had turned into questions about his love life. He shrugged, looking at the floor. “God, I don’t know, since… since my first heat, it’s just a thing he does.”

Yvette sagged back against her chair, covering her eyes with her hand. “Goodness’ _sake_ , Rhys. I know you’re still new to this, so a lot of the nuances are lost on you because your only point of reference is _Handsome Jack_ and you can’t pick up a book apparently--”

“Hey!”

She went on, paying no mind to his indignation. “But alphas don’t _mess_ with bond marks like that, all right? I sleep with plenty of omegas but I would _never_ do that. The only people who do that are knotheads that get a kick out of triggering bonding hormones then leaving their omega cold, or alphas who _want to bond_.” She dragged her hand down her face. “Paying too much attention to a bond point is-- it’s very intimate. I’ve _never_ done that myself. It means you’re either jerking the omega around, or that you want to go steady.”

Lifting his hand, Rhys ran his fingers over his neck. His fingertips skated lightly over his tattoo, thinking of all the times Jack had practically _settled in_ just to kiss him there, to mouth at his skin, eliciting sparks in Rhys’ mind and honey warmth in his veins. He’d gotten _used_ to that, looked forward to it sometimes.

The sight of Jack drawing away with red, bruised lips was so common, Rhys could see it behind his eyelids.

Rhys shook his head. “He would have said. Wouldn’t he?”

He looked at them both, and his friends shrugged.

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Vaughn asked quietly, sounding unsure.

“I…” Rhys looked down at his hands. Without thinking, he’d folded them over his stomach, hugging himself.

He had no idea. He just didn’t _know_.

 

* * *

 

Rhys had assumed that Jack would return from Pandora in a plume of gunsmoke, all swagger and self-congratulations. He wouldn’t even be upset at it, just relieved to have him back, enough to just roll his eyes at whatever self-aggrandizing display Jack would put on.

Instead, Jack was sitting behind his desk when Rhys walked in, almost making him drop his bag in shock. “You! You’re-- _Jack_!”

Jack looked up from his computer, smiling at Rhys’ stuttering. “Hey there, pumpkin. Long time no see.”

Rhys took the steps two at a time, standing over Jack and the desk, suddenly at a loss. “I… You, why didn’t you _call_ me, when did--”

“Oh, don’t look so upset, I’ve only been back like two hours.” He nodded to his computer. “Been catching up, reading through some of the messages you’ve been dealing with, and _whoooo boy_.” He grinned, delighted. “Looks to me like I’m gonna need to remind the peons around here who’s in charge and what happens when people don’t respect Handsome Jack’s decisions.” He pointed to something on the screen. “Though, seriously babe, did you really drop an R &D guy down the trapdoor? That’s awesome.”

“I.. yeah, I did, he was rude.” Rhys set his bag in the guest chair, trying to get a grip on the emotions warring in him. The sight of Jack back where he belonged brought a relief so intense, Rhys wanted to cry a bit. But having him nearby meant confronting the _issue_ , and that made Rhys want to cry a bit too.

Really, the idea of retreating to his apartment and crying for a bit was sounding really tempting. The last few days had been especially stressful. For the first time since Rhys had started this job, he felt wrung out.

“We’ll make ‘em all suffer a bit.” Jack tossed a grin at Rhys, pushing out of his chair and standing, circling around the desk. “Unless you got one of your lists handy. Did you keep track of who you want revenge on?”

“No, not this time,” Rhys said.

Jack nodded, then seemed to remember something. “Oh, hey. Got you something.” He patted down his pockets before tugging something out of his jacket. It was a disk, large enough to almost fill Jack’s hand, shining with red and grey metal offset by pearlescent inlay. The center was glass, etched with a complicated, layered matrix of hexagons.

“Atlas’ pride and joy, the Omega shield,” Jack said. “Not the-- it’s not _that_ kind of omega, I mean, an alpha or beta could use it, they just called it that. Best shield Atlas ever made. It can take a bullet train dead on and recharge for another full force hit in, like, point something seconds. _And_ , bonus!” He tossed the shield up, catching it in his other hand. “Full electrical resistance, so you never have to worry with someone screwing with your cybernetics. Pretty sweet, huh?”

Rhys stared at it, the gravity of the power Jack was holding in his hand sinking in. “That’s… incredible.”

Jack sidled in closer, hooking a finger into Rhys’ belt and tracing it under his jacket, over his side. There, he slid the shield into place, leaving it to rest against Rhys’ hip. He leaned in, still smiling, tipping his head to peck Rhys’ lips briskly. “There. Feel safe and cozy, babe?”

Oh no. Rhys felt all the… felt _everything_ just hit him then, ferocious and sudden. He put his hand over his eyes, taking a shaking breath through the knot in his throat. Jack got him a _shield_. A shield probably worth more than a vacation home on Dionysus.

“Uh, hey, Rhys? Rhysie, hey…” Jack’s hands settled on Rhys’ arms, rubbing up and down. “Babe, it’s okay, whatever’s got you… crying. Did you change your mind and want a gun? We pulled a _lot_ of guns out of that armory, I can get you one, babe, don’t cry.”

“No, no no,” Rhys managed, swallowing hard and taking a slower, deeper breath, trying to calm down. “It’s great, Jack, thank you.”

“I said I’d get you a present.”

“Yeah, you did.” He settled a hand on Jack’s chest, leaned in to kiss him. It was long and meandering, Rhys’ lips parting against Jack’s, soft push of tongue, the two of them breathing against each other. It felt great, bracing, and Rhys let it linger for a long moment before pulling away. “I, ha, I guess I got something for you too. Or,” he grimaced as soon as the words left his mouth. “No, oh my god, why did I say that?” Rhys hid his face behind his hand.

Jack just laughed, tugging at Rhys’ wrist. “What? Aw, Rhysie. Come on, I love presents. What is it?” he asked, bright and interested.

It was hard to stare into his face, the easy cheer and excitement that came from his victory, and say no. Rhys just hoped this wouldn’t… ruin that. Part of him wanted to backpedal and say nothing, just… get it taken care of and pretend it never happened.

But Jack was looking at him expectantly. So Rhys folded his arms, trying not to panic. “God… please, please don’t be mad, but I…” He took a breath, then said, “I might be pregnant? Or n-not might. I am.”

The look on Jack’s face froze in place, only a fast blink belying that he heard. Slowly, his eyes widened, smile fading into something else.

Rhys looked away, inhaling hard through his nose. “Yeah, I-- I’ve been sick for a few weeks, and being around other alphas has made me nervous, and some other stuff happened, s-so Yvette got me a test. Apparently not being bonded has made me all weird, so… mystery solved.” He turned, arms squeezing himself hard.

“Seriously?” Jack’s voice was barely a whisper. “I thought you couldn’t.”

Rhys shut his eyes tightly. “Yeah, well, surprise! Turns out my hormones finally leveled out.”

“Geez, you’ve been… Rhysie, holy shit.” His hands gripped Rhys’ shoulders, then slid up, curling around his neck, tipping his face up. Reluctantly, Rhys opened his eyes, meeting Jack’s. “You’ve been holding down the fort through all this?”

Rhys nodded slowly. “Basically?”

There was a pull, and Rhys swayed in, against Jack’s chest as arms folded around him. It took a second to sink in that Jack was holding him, but as soon as it did, Rhys turned his face into Jack’s neck. His hands clenched in the back of Jack’s jacket, a hard breath knocking out of him.

“Shoulda said, babe,” Jack murmured into Rhys’ hair.

“I only found out a few nights ago. I didn’t know…” Rhys shook his head. “God, I’ve been a mess, trying to figure out what to do. I didn’t know-- Yvette figured it out, that it was my body freaking out about being unbonded and b-being…”

It was still hard to say. Scary to acknowledge.

When Jack stepped back, Rhys had to fight the urge to cling tighter and keep him there. But Jack looked down at him, at his-- his stomach, grinning with something manic gleaming in his eyes. Something wild and hungry shone through the blue and green.

It dimmed when he met Rhys’ eyes again. “Unbonded. If I’d known this would happen, babe, I wouldn’t have let it be.” He cupped Rhys’ face, thumb brushing over his cheek before sliding back, fingers carding into Rhys’ hair. “I can fix that, you know.” His other hand settled on Rhys’ waist, palm sliding up against his belly, thumb pressing in just barely.

Rhys couldn’t help the angry huff he let out. “You never _said_. I had no idea that the-- your playbiting _meant_ something. You know this is all new to me, you asshole.”

Jack didn’t bother looking contrite, just nodded. “You’re right. Fine. Rhys.” He leaned in. “Let me have you.”

 _God, yes._ “Say please,” Rhys replied quietly, feeling the way Jack’s hands tensed on his skin.

“ _Please_ , Rhysie.” Jack leaned in, his lips running over Rhys’ neck, the same way he _always_ had, the intent attention only obvious to Rhys now. “Please let me, Rhys. Don’t make me beg.”

“Would you?” Rhys breathed. “If I asked?”

A graze of teeth, then, “Yeah. Come on, babe.”

Rhys grinned at the thought of it, of Jack on his knees begging for it, for _him_.  He’d be terrible at it, but he’d do it, and Rhys hung onto that.

For him, and probably _only_ him, Jack would do it.

As much as he wanted to see that, Rhys was impatient. He wanted the hot sick feeling in his chest to go away, to get rid of the worry and the spikes of fear. He tipped his head to the side, whispered, “Do it. Just do it, please.”

Jack’s arm anchored around his hips, pulling him flush to his chest. Lips ran over Rhys’ neck, from the vulnerable skin under his ear down to the spot on his neck. Sucking in a breath, Rhys gripped Jack’s shoulders at the first touch of teeth, a moan stealing past his parted lips, fueled by the anticipation alone.

He thought he felt Jack’s breath hitch, but in the next instance Jack’s teeth settled against his skin and he bit down.

It felt like something breaking, or popping. Rhys was aware of the pressure until something gave way and the bite poured into him. He gasped, legs shaking. He’d felt it before, the feeling of _safe_ and _warm_ like hot molasses in his blood, but this was more. It radiated out, filling him, something intangible but deafening. It was for a moment too much, _far_ too much, and Rhys cried out in pain.

Then, it settled. The intensity waned just enough so he could breathe, present but kinder.

Something like molten gold wrapped its fingers around his mind, shivering and humming in tune to… Jack. _Jack_.

“Oh,” Rhys sighed, slumping hard against Jack, knowing he’d take his weight.

Jack help him up, his own breath coming harder, faster. “There. There we go. Better?”

Rhys nodded against his face, smiling. Now, he was bonded, and the tension in his body was wiped away. In its place was something heady and drenched in honey-sweetness. Endorphins rushing in. Yvette had said as much, about being bonded and knocked up. She was _not_ wrong.

Soaking in the feeling for a moment, Rhys eventually opened his eyes and found Jack staring at him, grinning. “Stop that,” Rhys murmured. “You’re so smug.”

Jack leaned in, lips moving against Rhys’. “You’re mine, babe. All mine. It’s worth being smug about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was fun. 8)
> 
> Just in case you don't know, I'm donotchoosesidesyet on tumblr. I'll post a little epilogue to this there tomorrow probably-- ledgem had a great idea for it, and I wanna write it.
> 
> Hope you've enjoyed. This will not be the last a/b/o thing I write. It also won't be the last ruthless Slytherin Rhys thing I write, but probably the last of both for this particular universe.
> 
> Oh, BTW: [The Atlas Omega](http://borderlands.wikia.com/wiki/Atlas_Omega) is an actual thing, probably the greatest shield Atlas ever made.


End file.
